KIDNAPPED |Book1|wlw

Chapter Nineteen

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"Why are we here? Where are we heading?" I asked Florence. She was staring at her phone that was attached to the wall side of the yacht. All of a sudden it rang, and I felt nervous. She went deadly, seriously holding the telephone. It seems she was expecting the call.

"Quet Camille," she said, picking up the phone and standing in the small space between the bathroom and the door. The phone was hanging on the wall at the front door of our cabin. She was speaking a different language I didn't understand. After that, she hung up. I felt nervous at the same time she locked the door, getting in.

"What's going on? I felt panic arise.

 

"Sshh...quite Camille," she said, looking at me. She was held by my arms. I felt weird when she hugged me. "What's going on...?" I whispered, looking at her. She only kisses my lips long enough that I could taste the tip of her tongue. I want to die when I feel out of nowhere. "Why?" I replied with a kiss on my own, but she kisses me deeper. I submitted of dominance as always. I let her take me, her hands brushing down on my breast, but I felt hesitant and refused. She paused for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Camilla, but I want you to follow me. You have to trust me. Everything you will hear, please keep quiet. Please trust me at this moment. She stood up and paused, opening every drawer in our cabin. She found handcuffs, but they were covered in pink fur around their metal. I was supposed to be used to food kinky foreplay. Adding intense sexual desires and fantasies. She placed both of my hands. She stared at me for a moment wearing a handcuff.

Then she stood up again and went to the bathroom. She came back with a very sharp razor blade. She started to cut my above-knee dress, cutting and shreds. I could sit there and watch what she was doing. She stretched her arms and started slicing her skin. I immediately shouted, "God! What's going on!?" seeing the blood flow rapidly on her wrist. And it didn't look like it was going to stop the bleeding; it's pretty bad.

She started smudging everywhere in the bed. Cutting my dress again. She split her wrist again to put some on the crystal dildo. "Come lay in bed and please keep quiet for me, Camilla." I could only nod. She tore more sheets to form a gag place in my mouth.

A loud knock hammered on our cabin door. A husky male voice outside spoke in a different language. Started to wonder if this was the man who called Florence before she acted weirdly. Looking at me with a deadly serious face, she quickly continued shredding my dress near part of my legs.

She rubbed and smudged her blood using her hands near my thigh; it made me blush and almost turn on. She was touching the right place without malice; all she thought of was what she had needed to do. I never allowed that since we met or to do so. Instead, I obeyed and instructed her earlier on how serious she was and continued what she was doing; she had her blood on my dress and covered her wounded arms as quickly as she could.

Several men continue knocking and hammering on the cabin door, almost breaking in. "I'm so sorry, Camilla, can I pull that down? I need to look real," she said, asking, pointing to drop down my lingerie. She looked away when she pulled it down and cut her wrist again. I didn't move as I held my breath. She allowed me to dripped her blood on my legs, then she tore more sheets to wrap her open wound on her skin, and she pulled more clothes to cover her wrist to cover those cuts to stop bleeding. Looking where I am now, she created a convincing rape scene.

She poured water on my forehead to make me look like I'm sweating with a wet look on my hair. She showed and unbutton her vest, shifting to reveal her cleavage. Hiding those cuts under her sleeves. I've noticed the blood still flowing beneath her sleeves, wishing no one took notice.

I was worried; it seems the blood didn't stop. Sensing she's faking it, she set up and fooled them. I was wondering what they would do. If they found out, the whole damn is only an act. The last time I knew I was still being kidnapped. Florence did her best to save me again. She walks near to cover a bit on my thighs; she still cares despite what she created.

Placing a mirror in bed and several kits looks like we have several sessions. Stepping near the door to open it, sniffing. But she was enduring the pain of those cuts.